


Just A Taster

by cordeliadelayne



Series: Nothing But Kisses [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Getting Together, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, slow on the uptake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times Clint and Coulson had to kiss and one time they didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Taster

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece to [Just A Taste](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4861646). Coulson's pov. Pre-Avengers.

Coulson adjusted his tie and then went back to reviewing the new mission parameters. He liked Agent Spinoza but he couldn't help feeling slightly annoyed that his perfectly planned mission now needed him and Clint to pair up as a couple and infiltrate the home of a scientist suspected of working on a super soldier serum, instead of her and Clint.

It was supposed to be a test run for Clint, to see how he coped outside of killing from a distance, and Coulson hadn't wanted to contaminate the results by being anything other than an observer in the background. But since Sitwell had met the scientist that only left him as the most qualified agent available who knew the mission inside and out.

Sighing he left the bathroom and headed towards the control room. He got there just in time to overhear Sitwell tell Clint, and the room at large, that Agent Spinoza was carnying some extra weight.

“That's Jasper's way of announcing Agent Spinoza's pregnancy,” Coulson said. He really hoped she made Sitwell pay for that; Jasper's penchant for gossiping was starting to get out of hand.

“What did I say?” Jasper asked. He seemed genuinely confused, but Coulson had known him a little too long to be fooled.

Coulson walked over to him, shaking his head to indicate he needed to drop the act. “How you have a girlfriend...” he began, wondering, not for the first time, whether this girlfriend was just a figment of Sitwell's imagination.

He took Jasper's phone from his hand and re-read the last few messages from Fury; he blocked out all the nonsense Jasper was spouting about his supposed girlfriend.

“What's” - Clint coughed and cleared his throat; if Coulson didn't know better he would have thought Clint was nervous. “What's the plan?”

“I'll be taking Agent Spinoza's place,” Coulson explained.

“As my...okay. Great.”

Coulson shot Clint a confused look and then went back to discussing a few last minute adjustments with Jasper; he could fill Clint in on the way.

All they needed to do was attend the Save the Manatee fund-raiser, and plant listening devices in Michael Wilson's office and bedroom. Hopefully that would give them enough Intel to determine how far along he really was in his experiments into recreating the super soldier serum, and be a good way of assessing how Clint handled undercover missions on the ground.

“So, how are we doing this?” Clint asked.

“Same as before,” Jasper told him. “Too late to change now. Coulson's up to speed.”

Jasper headed over to the back-up team and Coulson found himself relatively alone with Clint for the first time in weeks.

“Same as before?” Clint asked him.

Coulson fidgeted with his jacket. Maybe this was going to be a disaster after all, judging by the almost horrified look on Clint's face right now.

“I realise I'm no Agent Spinoza,” he began to say, hoping the sudden stab of hurt he felt wasn't evident in his tone. He was a professional, dammit.

“No, no,” Clint interrupted him, but Coulson couldn't help but think that he was merely going through the motions. “You – it's...”

Coulson stared at him and willed him to shut up before his flailing started to draw any more attention to their conversation. He didn't like the way Jasper was smiling in their direction.

“We'll make a great couple,” Clint suddenly said.

Coulson snorted at Clint's unfailing ability to say whatever Coulson most wanted to hear but without meaning a word of it. Time to draw things back onto a work footing.

“Same story as before,” he began to explain. “We go in, mingle and then slip away to the bedrooms, to enjoy ourselves.”

Clint grinned and Coulson tired to ignore the sudden quickened beating of his heart. “What could go wrong?”

* * * * *

Coulson should have known that Clint's question would be answered with pretty much everything. Their backup had been taken out shortly after they arrived, so they were on their own on the ground, without being totally sure just how badly their mission had been compromised. They'd have gone ahead and cancelled but new Intel indicated the experiments into the serum were far more advanced than they'd thought, and Coulson was confident he and Clint could get the job done as needed.

“We've been compromised,” Clint said. He shifted closer to Coulson, far closer than Coulson thought their cover required.

“I'm aware,” Coulson replied. Maybe continuing with this was a bad idea after all.

“Okay,” Clint said. He pressed even closer to Coulson and it took all of Coulson's skills to react only as his cover identity would have. “So we're living dangerously, huh?”

“Don't we always?” Coulson replied. He wondered if Clint ever caught the double meaning in their conversations, but then dismissed it as unlikely. Instead he steered them towards the bar and ordered them both a drink, which he knew they wouldn't take a sip of. “Any sign of the target?”

“Two o'clock.”

Coulson elaborately passed Clint his drink and surveyed the room. “Got him.”

“Next part of the plan?” Clint asked.

Coulson nodded. “Sitwell, we got eyes on the exits?”

“Doing it myself,” Sitwell replied, much to Coulson's surprise.

“O-kay,” Clint said. “Just how much trouble are we in?”

“Fury's made it Priority One,” Sitwell said. “Bugs aren't going to do it. He thinks the formula for the serum is on site.”

“Shit,” Clint said. “Time to up our game?”

“Looks like,” Coulson agreed. He started to laugh and pulled Clint close to him, knowing that Clint would easily follow his lead. “Bedroom, now.”

Clint ran his hands up Coulson's arms. “I thought you'd never ask.”

Coulson tampered down any thoughts he might have about wanting this to be real and reacted by pawing at Clint until they get to the backstairs. There they separated and proceeded to run as quickly as they could; time was precious.

“First on the left,” Coulson instructed as he let Clint move in front of him. Not that he really needed to, he was sure Clint had the layout as memorised as he did.

“Locked,” Clint said, unsurprisingly. “Keypad – do you?”

Coulson handed over one of his favourite pieces of SHIELD tech before Clint had finished asking for it.

“How long?” Coulson asked, moving slightly away so he could get a better view down both ends of the corridor.

“Five seconds.”

The door unlocker flashed green and Clint pushed it open. Coulson made a mental note of how efficient Clint was being.

“Any other traps we need to worry about, sir?” Clint asked.

Coulson saw movement at the far end of the corridor and quickly moved towards Clint. “We’ve got company.” He leaned around Clint and removed the locking device, put it into his pocket and pulled the door shut.

Clint stood up and Coulson acted on instinct, pushing him up against the wall. He told himself that he was just doing all he could to maintain their cover, but that was all forgotten when Clint nodded his permission and he started to kiss the other man.

Clint groaned, which only spurred Coulson on further, moving up against Clint's hard body, holding on tight as Clint moved against him. The kiss was everything Coulson had ever imagined, but he couldn’t, _wouldn't_ , let that distract him from their mission. He pulled reluctantly away as the guests who'd interrupted them moved past.

“Time to move,” Coulson said, hoping he didn't sound as dazed as he felt.

“Right,” Clint said. “After you.”

* * * * *

It was easy after that to find the serum formula and make copies of it – they wouldn't take it outright, that might lead the scientist into working harder, certain that if SHIELD was on the case his serum must be the real deal. Instead the scientist would be followed and a fake formula substituted when he inevitably sold it on to the highest bidder. Hopefully that would discredit the scientist's work enough that he'd feel pretty desperate, perhaps even desperate enough to join SHIELD.

The debrief went smoothly and though Coulson very much wanted to talk to Clint about the kiss, he somehow found himself avoiding being left alone with Clint.

Perhaps another time.

**Two**

“We have a problem,” Sitwell said, walking into Coulson's office without knocking.

Coulson sighed and wondered, not for the first time, why he called this man his friend.

“What's going on?”

“Your boy's up to his eyes in it,” Sitwell replied. He put a stack of photographs on Coulson's desk and Coulson started flicking through them.

“He's not my boy,” Coulson replied, though there was no heat to his words. It was an open secret amongst the other supervisors that Coulson kept a closer eye on Clint's activities than anybody elses.

“Looks like he's been cavorting with the enemy.”

“Cavorting is hardly the word I'd use,” Coulson said. “Wait, enemy?”

As far as he could see it looked like Clint had just been doing his usual running in to defend someone without thinking, or checking for SHIELD surveillance apparently.

Sitwell handed over another file with a flourish and a smile that Coulson didn't quite care for.

“Oh,” Coulson said. “This isn't good.”

Sitwell laughed his agreement as Coulson flipped through the woman's file, then compared what grainy photo they did have with the photos of her and Clint taken that night. Clint was too noble for his own good, sometimes.

“Have we tried his phone?” Coulson asked, standing up.

“Turned off,” Sitwell replied. “You're not going yourself?”

“Problem?” Coulson asked. Apparently his expression was bleak enough for Sitwell not to attempt to argue with him.

“I'll get agents on the ground.”

Coulson nodded, and then attempted to walk as quickly as possible to his car, without making it seem like he was worried.

* * * * *

Coulson broke more than a few traffic laws as he raced to Clint's apartment, but he didn't care; SHIELD would take care of it, what mattered was getting to Clint.

As he parked and jumped out he spotted a few agents sitting outside of a Starbucks. He shook his head; ordinarily he'd berate them for sloppiness but he didn’t have that kind of time. He'd already decided that he’d just have to be direct, knock on Clint's door and hope Clint was the smart agent that Coulson believed in, and could think on his feet.

He'd never been to Clint's apartment before, but he didn't have any time to look around once Clint opened the door. At least he was in one piece.

“Is this him?” a woman's voice asked and Coulson had the first stab of worry that maybe Clint had been talking out of turn. He tried to shift so he could see where she was, but Clint was standing in his way and then suddenly Clint was kissing him, tugging him forward. Clearly this was some sort of ruse so Coulson didn't react except to tense, ready to avoid gunfire if that was the play Clint was going with.

It was only when Clint stepped away from the kiss and looked around that Coulson realised Clint had no idea what was actually happening.

“I presume that was a lifesaving effort on your part?” Coulson asked, sarcasm apparently going straight over Clint's head.

He sighed and laid the file down on the kitchen counter, in between dirty coffee mugs and a half-eaten pizza.

“Oh,” Clint said. “Yeah.”

Coulson shook his head, he really shouldn't find Clint's confusion adorable. Especially not with the call he was now going to have to make.

“So,” Coulson asked, waiting for Agent Hill to pick up, “are you going to tell the Director you spent the night with the Black Widow, or shall I?”

**Three**

Coulson checked the message on his cell a final time before heading downstairs to the gun range. Although he and Natasha were developing a kind of friendship, it wasn't like her to randomly ask him to join in her training. He doubted the invitation was solely for a catch-up, despite that implied suggestion in her message.

His suspicions were proven correct when he entered the range to find that Natasha was with Clint. It wasn't entirely a surprise, since their meeting and Clint's disobeying of orders to bring her into SHIELD they had been nigh on inseparable.

Coulson watched as Clint let his arrows fly, followed by Natasha's excellent shooting skills. He couldn’t imagine he'd ever get tired of watching these two work.

“Very impressive,” he said.

“Want to make it interesting?” Natasha asked by way of a greeting.

Coulson narrowed his eyes. He was starting to suspect that Clint hadn't known he'd been invited.

“What did you have in mind?” Coulson asked.

“Best of three,” Natasha said. “Loser has to pay a forfeit.”

“And the forfeit?” Coulson asked. He noted that Clint was staying quiet during all of this. He still took the gun she handed him though.

“Loser has to kiss the winner.”

Coulson raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like Natasha to play childish pranks. Clearly something else was going on, he just couldn't imagine what.

“And why exactly do you want me to kiss Clint?” he asked.

“What makes you think -?”

“I have no allusions about my shooting skills,” Coulson said. “You'd easily beat me, and no one alive can match Clint's accuracy. So, I ask again, why do you want me to kiss Clint?”

“Scientific curiosity,” Natasha said. It was clearly a lie, but Coulson didn't call her on it. Instead he put his gun down.

“We have a mission,” he said. Technically it didn't have to be them that joined him on this mission, but he'd suddenly decided that he wanted their company. “Briefing in Hill's office. Ten minutes.”

Then, after a long look at Natasha, he planted a soft kiss against Clint's cheek.

“Don't be late,” he whispered against Clint's skin, putting as much heat as he could behind the words.

Then he left them to it. At least until he could get Natasha alone and ask her to explain just what the hell she was playing at.

**Four**

“Does anyone have the target?” Coulson asked, annoyed at the heat, the mission and everything in between.

“No sign here,” Clint said.

“No sign at my location,” Natasha chimed in.

Their cool voices went a long way to help reign in his own anxiety. Neither the target nor their undercover SHIELD agent had turned up for the rendezvous, which meant things were already well on their way to going to hell in a handcart.

“Permission to move?” Clint asked. Coulson wondered what would happen if one of these days he told Clint that no, he should just stay exactly where he was put. As it happened though, moving sounded like an excellent idea.

“Meet me at the back door,” Coulson said.

“Sir?” Natasha said. “Is that wise?”

“He's not here, Tash,” Coulson said. “I'll be fine.”

“What's going on?” Clint asked, jumping down from the fire escape after demonstrating some acrobatic flexibility that Coulson definitely didn't find distracting.

“It's not important,” Coulson started to say, but Natasha started to speak right over him.

“The target has a grudge against Coulson. If he sees Coulson...”

“He's not here so he's going to see me, _Agent Romanov_ ,” Coulson said, a little more harshly than he had intended. The last thing he needed was to start feeling a wave of affection towards her, just because she was so obviously concerned about him.

Coulson was slightly startled when Clint jumped down directly in front of him. He had no time to react though, as Clint pushed him against the wall, told him the target was on his six, and then started to kiss him.

Coulson's heart sped up and he reacted on a pure moment of lust, grabbing at Clint's hips a little desperately.

“I'm two minutes out,” Natasha said, though Coulson barely heard her over the pulse of his blood beating inside his head.

Finally Coulson stopped the kiss, for his own sanity if nothing else. He pressed his face close to Clint's shoulder and tried to remember how to breathe.

“We could take him out,” Clint whispered.

“SHIELD needs him alive.”

“On it,” Natasha said

Coulson turned at the same moment as Clint did, as Natasha called out to the target. It sounded like she was pretending to be lost.

“Coulson,” a voice on the comm unit chimed in, “it's Blake. Our guy's dead.”

“What?” Coulson asked.

“Had his throat cut. That's why he didn't make the meet.”

“Dammit,” Coulson muttered. Davies had been a good agent, if a little green. “All right. I'm calling it. Nat, take him down.”

“With pleasure,” Natasha replied and took the target down with an extremely efficient knock to the throat.

“Could have been worse,” Clint said. Which is when Coulson realised how closely they were still standing next to each other.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Coulson asked. It was definitely breaking his no personal talk while on duty rule, but Clint tended to have that effect on him. Especially as this was hardly the first mission that had left them kissing each other breathless.

“I'll go help Nat,” Clint said. He avoided looking directly at Coulson and Coulson's heart sank as Clint moved away.

Coulson knew better than to try and stop him.

**Five**

“Well, this all seems horribly familiar,” Clint said to Coulson. They had barely seen each other since their last mission together and Coulson was beginning to worry that their friendship would never recover.

“I'm sorry you ended up with me again,” Coulson said, trying to make Clint see just how much he meant it. He didn’t want Clint to think that he had deliberately engineered this mission.

“Can't be helped,” Clint said and Coulson tried to find a neutral expression to fall back on.

“If we could have delayed the mission until Natasha's fracture healed...” he started to explain, only to have Clint interrupt.

“No, I didn't...I like working with you, you know that.”

“Do you?” Coulson asked, daring to hope that Clint might be telling the truth.

“Of course I do. I...”

“You two love-birds ready?” Sitwell interrupted them.

Clint glared at him and Coulson felt unsure all over again.

“Chill, Barton, you're supposed to be newly-weds, not serial killers. Wheels up in five.”

Coulson acknowledged the info with a quick nod of his head and then turned back to Clint. But with Sitwell still standing there all the words he wanted to say, the lies he wanted to apologise for, just evaporated and he ended up walking away, cursing himself inwardly as he did so.

* * * * *

Coulson found himself at the other end of the plane to Clint, talking to the pilot. He watched with some trepidation as Clint and Jasper engaged in conversation; Jasper had been teasing him about his infatuation with Clint for the last few months, god knows what he was telling him now.

Perhaps he should go and interrupt, cut off whatever nonsense Jasper might be telling him.

It was a wise decision as it happened, considering Jasper was currently compromising more than just his not love life.

“Why were you looking at Agent Romanov's movements in the first place?” he demanded, annoyed that he hadn't been the one to tell Clint why Natasha wasn't on this mission, that the broken leg story was just that, a story.

“Just doing my due diligence,” Sitwell said. “I was concerned.”

Coulson didn't believe that for a moment.

“Romanov's on a mission for Director Fury. And that's all you need to know.”

Sitwell shrugged, but Coulson knew he'd be stewing about this for weeks.

“I wanted to go over some last minute details with Barton,” Coulson said. It was an obvious ploy to get Sitwell out of the way, but right now he didn't care.

“Sure, sure. You do that,” Sitwell said. Coulson watched him move off to the front of the plane and only when he was out of sight did he sit himself down next to Clint.

“I didn’t have time to tell you earlier,” Coulson began to explain. “I -”

“Let's just go over our legends again.”

Coulson felt his face drop. This wasn’t how he wanted to start this mission. “ _Clint._ ”

“I don’t want to talk about anything other than the mission, is that clear, Agent Coulson?”

Coulson sat forward. If that's the way Clint wanted to play it, then he certainly wasn't going to force an uncomfortable conversation on him. Not when their mission relied on them making a convincing couple. “All right. My name is Daniel Swift...”

* * * * *

The mission seemed to be going well. Clint was still a little tense, but their cover was holding and they were getting closer to finding their mark. But then an explosion shook the room and he and Clint were flying through a window. Coulson tried to cushion the blow of his landing but all his training vanished as he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his side and the breath was knocked out of him as he landed awkwardly on the ground.

“Was that us?” he heard Clint ask, though muffled, as if his voice was coming from a long way away.

“I don't think so,” Coulson replied, more out of habit of always answering Clint's questions, if nothing else.

“Hey, Boss, you okay?”

Coulson tried to respond, but all his energy seemed to have leached away.

“Coulson? Coulson – what the? Oh, shit, can anyone hear me? Sitwell? Coulson's down! Repeat, I have an agent down.”

The panic in Clint's voice tugged at something deep inside Coulson and he blinked open his eyes. “Not dead yet,” he murmured.

“Don't, don't move,” Clint said.

Coulson tried to keep his eyes open, to hear the rest of what Clint was saying, but he just couldn’t do it. Not until Clint's mouth, by now so familiar, was pressed against his own, and the darkness seemed to recede, inch by inch.

**+1**

Coulson had been looking forward to his first day back at work since Clint had suggested that they have dinner and, in his words, “see how quickly we can screw this thing up.” What he hadn't factored in was just how exhausting a normal working day for him could be. By the time he turned up at Clint's apartment he felt he'd gone ten rounds with Natasha, but he still really wanted to see Clint's face.

“I'm sorry,” Coulson said, aware that it wasn't the first time he'd apologised since almost falling into Clint's arms when he'd opened the door.

“Phil, it's fine. We can go out another time.”

Coulson nodded. With that sorted now he just had to get himself home.

“No, come on,” Clint said. “You’re staying here tonight.”

Coulson sighed but couldn't find any resources of energy to protest; he was all tapped out.

In fact he was so spent he let Clint carefully undress him and couldn’t even muster up any of his normal surprise at being treated like something precious. Before he knew it he was safely under the covers of Clint's bed and feeling more at home than he ever did at his own apartment.

“Stay,” Coulson said, when it appeared that Clint was going to leave him alone. And he very much did not want that.

“The couch is comfy,” Clint told him.

“Natasha says otherwise,” Coulson replied, thinking back with a smile to the first time they ever met her. “Please?”

“Okay,” Clint said. Coulson sank back in the covers, exhausted by that small effort, and watched as Clint quickly undressed and got into the bed next to him.

“Go to sleep,” Clint whispered. Coulson nodded and moved forward a little, wanting to be as close to Clint as the other man would allow. He sighed happily as Clint pulled him closer.

This is what mattered, at the end of the day. Sharing his life with someone he trusted above all others. He didn’t imagine it would be easy, not as easy as all those kisses they'd already shared, but that's what Coulson was most looking forward to. Being the one Clint turned to, building a life together, making mistakes and fixing them _together._

But he was also looking forward to waking Clint with a kiss the next morning, and then every other morning after that.


End file.
